Page 114 of Run to Me

“Anywhere.” When she climbs into the passenger seat and looks back at me, the answer’s written all over her face. Anywhere but Walford.

“No!” I shout, catching the door before she can slam it shut, my hand close to being crushed. I’m the one with the keys, and we aren’t leaving until we work through this. I wrench the door open. “You don’t get to run away because you’re hurting or scared.”

She shuts down—arms crossed, lips thinned, eyes straight ahead. I nudge her jaw, urging her to face me.

“Look at me. It’s you and me, beautiful. It’s always been you and me. When shit gets hard, we reach for each other and hold on tight. That’s what we do.”

Her lip quivers, eyes glued to my chest as a rainfall of regret coats her flushed cheeks. “But I didn’t hold on, did I? I pushed you away. You were the only good thing in my life, and I pushed you far away. Why didn’t you forget about me like everyone else did?”

My voice is breathless, shaky with desperation, when I beg for her to believe me. “Because I love you. I’m so in love with you, it’s bordering on insanity. Nothing can ever change how I feel. And nothing will ever come before you.”

“You can’t guarantee that,” she cries.

“It’s the easiest guarantee I’ll ever make.” Gripping her thighs, I spin her toward me and stand between her knees, my hands cradling her face. “Have faith that I see you and I’m here for you. Believe I want the best for you and will support your dreams. I can’t give you the world, but I’ll do everything in my power to help you go out there and make it your bitch. I love watching you soar, birdie. But when the gig ends, and it’s time to come home—when life deals its blows, and you feel like running away from it all—run to me. Let me be your finish line and your final resting place. Lay your head on the pillow next to mine, and drop your burdens on my table. I’ll help you sort through them, same as you do for me.”

Her shoulders quake as her emotions break loose. “I don’t deserve you.”

I brush her tears away with my thumbs. “No, you don’t. You deserve someone who’s much stronger than me. Someone without a broken brain who won’t drag you down. But I’ll try my hardest to be worthy of you every day. To be the man you trust with your whole heart because you’ll know, without a doubt, that I am where you belong.”

A strangled sob escapes her, and she buries her head in my chest, clutching my shirt between her fingers. I wrap my arms around her. With my body creating the shield she needs to feel safe while her walls are down, she unleashes decades of repressed heartbreak. All I can do is close my eyes, hold her through this, and pray she doesn’t let go and run again.

40

MAISY

I fall asleep on the drive back to Walford, my mind and body numb after the onslaught of adrenaline. Jensen carries me into Pam’s house and lays me on the bed. They have a hushed conversation, but I’m too drained to care about what they’re saying.

He kisses my temple and whispers, “Come home to me when you’re ready.”

I roll over and let the exhaustion take me under again. When I wake hours later, the bedroom is pitch black. My fear of the dark grips me for a moment until I remember where I am. I feel around the bed and let out a sigh when my fingers connect with my cell phone. The screen gives off enough light to see and confirms I slept through dinner, the clock showing it’s just after midnight.

Thinking back on the events of the day and the conversation with my father, I find I’m, oddly, at peace. I got the answers to questions I’ve asked myself since I walked away from him years ago. Our interaction further strengthens my resolve to do the same to Vera.

I’m ready to rid myself of the uncertainties in my life—in my past—leaving room for the certainties. And there are four things I know for certain.

I want to succeed in my career.

My parents don’t deserve me.

My friends accept me for who I am, unconditionally.

Jensen Holloway is my home. Not a house or a town or any physical place. Him.

All the times he pleaded for me to come home to him, he knew this truth. So did I, even though I denied it. After the day I’ve had—hell, the months I’ve had—there’s no place I’d rather be than with him.

Satisfied with the denim shorts and tank top I’ve worn all day, I brush my teeth, throw my hair up, and tug on a pair of sneakers with no laces. The hot, sticky air clings to me as I walk the two blocks to Main Street. The lampposts glow on the empty sidewalks, and all the businesses have closed for the night.

Beyond the darkened bar area inside Bruno’s, light shines from Jensen’s office. Relieved he hasn’t gone home yet, I pound a fist on the glass door. He steps into the hallway and, realizing it’s my face pressed to the glass, rushes over and unlocks it.

“What happened?” he asks, eyes sweeping over me for signs of damage or distress.

I jump, wrapping my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist, and he catches me. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Everything,” I murmur against his throat. “For being you. For loving me. For today.”

The lock clicks, then we’re moving. “I’ll always hold you up when you need support,” he says.